


leave it to the land, this is what it knows

by brookethenerd



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 03:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookethenerd/pseuds/brookethenerd
Summary: the first times Andrew lets Neil touch him





	leave it to the land, this is what it knows

Neil has become accustomed to tangling his fingers in Andrew’s hair when being kissed, not stupid enough to cross the line Andrew set for him. While he wouldn’t end up with a punch from Andrew if his hands did stray like anyone else would, besides maybe Kevin, that doesn’t mean he’d get off easy.

It isn’t just that he’s stupid enough to leap the line; it’s that he knows the reason it’s there. Just as Andrew’s incessant comments never stray to his time in Evermore or his night in the hands of his father and his people, just as his steady hands never brush across the burn scar on Neil’s cheek where a number used to live, Neil doesn’t bring up what happened in the bedroom with Drake, or what happened when Andrew was younger.

Neil Josten has spent his life running from his demons. He may have out run them, but Andrew hasn’t. He likely won’t until Drake is 6 feet under the ground, unable to touch anyone again.

Neil doesn’t push. He has no reason to, fully content with what he has.

Today, though, Andrew does. He breaks from Neil’s lips, pulling back to look at him, guarded eyes revealing nothing.

Neil isn’t surprised at the lack of emotion in Andrew’s eyes; he gauges Andrew’s feelings by his actions. It took him a long time to accept that Andrew did care for him; Andrew himself sure as hell wouldn’t admit it. The emptiness in his eyes is a facade that Andrew has perfected; it doesn’t come down easily or often.

He reaches up and pulls Neil’s hands from his hair, before moving them down to hover above the fabric covering his shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Neil asks. Andrew’s mouth twitches.

“If I weren’t, would I have done anything at all?” Andrew retorts. Neil lets his hands settle on Andrew’s shoulder, not missing the way Andrew stiffens beneath him.

He doesn’t ask if Andrew is okay, because Andrew would just glare at him. Instead, he waits for Andrew to lean back in.

And after a beat, he does.

-

Andrew gradually lets Neil explore. One day it’s his waist, letting Neil slip his hands beneath the fabric of his shirt, fingers grazing his hips. Then it’s his chest, ever so carefully running them down to his navel. Another day, it’s his neck.

He doesn’t let him near the face. Andrew doesn’t talk about why not, but Neil knows; that was always Drake’s soft spot. Pushing his face down into a pillow, nails digging into his cheeks.

They don’t move any further than that for a long time. Andrew’s hands roam everywhere, into Neil’s pants, around his legs, along his spine, everywhere he can. He’s the only person whose hands are allowed to roam down past his own stomach, but he doesn’t seem to mind doing so when Neil is around anymore. Neil can tell when one hand drops, and his lips stall against Neil’s.

He knows how big of a deal it is for Andrew, so he never so much as looks downward.

It’s a long time after the first time Andrew lets Neil’s hands move that he pulls away, and guides Neil’s fingers up to his cheeks. Neil pulls away immediately, sure this is some kind of test to see how strong Neil’s resolve is; Andrew should know by now it’s nearly as strong as his own.

Andrew lets out a small noise, gruff, slightly irritated.

Eyes flicking around Andrew’s face, Neil looks for some kind of hint that he’s joking, though he knows by now Andrew doesn’t give off anything he doesn’t want to.

Slowly, Neil’s hands slip over Andrew’s sides, pulling them back before moving to his face. Andrew doesn’t tell him to move any faster, or get frustrated that he’s taking so long; this is how Neil knows he’s fighting a battle of his own.

After a long pause, his fingers settle gently on Andrew’s cheeks. Andrew flinches away, rearing back, hands dropping from Neil’s sides. Neil is ready to drop it there, but then Andrew steps back into his reach. He takes Neil’s hands from where they’ve settled by his hips, and nudges them up, bringing them to hover beside his cheeks again.

“Andrew,” Neil says. Andrew flicks him an irritated look, and doesn’t say anything.

Neil waits for Andrew to take a breath, before letting his fingers touch Andrew’s jaw. Though he tenses for a millisecond, he doesn’t pull away, and he doesn’t flinch.

Neil goes still, waiting for Andrew to give him some sign that it’s okay.

Not getting much of anything, Neil leans back in hesitantly. When Andrew doesn’t pull back, he leans in further.

Then he kisses him, gently at first. Andrew allows it to be soft for just a moment-a moment is longer than Neil ever thought he’d get-before nudging Neil’s mouth open with his tongue.

It’s progress. For the Foxes, progress is often small, and comes at a cost. For Andrew, it’s seemingly non-existent, and has a higher price.

But this time, it didn’t. This time, all it took was time.

And these days, that’s something Neil has in abundance.


End file.
